


A Tail as Old as Time

by smoochfestmod



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 20:24:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1792069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoochfestmod/pseuds/smoochfestmod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale as old as time. Only not really because Harry’s a werewolf who has run away from home and Draco is trapped in the manor and talks to inanimate objects. But somehow it works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tail as Old as Time

**Author's Note:**

> This submission is part of HD Smoochfest on Livejournal. The theme this year is Media Remix, which invited participants to "remix" the story from a Book, Movie, or Television Show. The author/artist will be revealed at the end of the fest.
> 
> This was created for Prompt Number: M12  
> Original Work Name: Beauty and the Beast
> 
> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's Notes: Dear Prompter, I hope you like this fic. It took a couple tries to get to the end of it, but I’m happy with how it turned out. I hope you like my interpretation of this fairy tale. I started going in one direction, but ended up chucking all of that and I had to start from scratch. For this reason I would like to thank the mods for being super understanding and giving me an extension when I needed it. But it got done. However, that’s when I had beta issues. I would like to thank L for being able to step up in short notice and do a great job beta-ing. Any mistakes left are completely my own. Also L's daughter suggested the title and once I've heard it I just couldn't get it out of my head. So thank you L's daughter for the great suggestion. Also I’d like to give a quick shout out to my friends S, who would have been my beta if she had not decided to have twins instead. Congrats S on being a new mom.

It was dark and Harry had been running for days, maybe even weeks.  He was too disoriented to tell how much time had passed.  It hadn’t always been about running.  Once it had been about confusion and being locked up. That’s when he first had been turned into...into… whatever sort of beast he was now.  Harry had tried for so long to hold onto his humanity.  It had been easy in the beginning when there had been regular contact with friends and family.  Hermione and Ron had talked to him daily, though they had been his jailers.  Mr and Mrs. Weasley had stopped by once or twice a week.  And all the other Weasleys had also stopped by occasionally; including Ginny. 

However, Ginny had stopped coming when Hermione had stopped looking for a way to turn him back.  He had not been bitten, but Hermione had said that his anatomy and his features were that of a werewolf, for the most part. Yet he did not have the ability to turn back.  And during the full moon he became unmanageable; he lost himself to the creature.  Most of the time he was unable to remember what he had done and awoke to destruction around him.

When Hermione had stopped looking, the days had seemed to get longer for a while.  Maybe this was due to the fact that Hermione would no longer come home excited to tell him about the progress she was making.  Then again, she hadn’t really made much progress in a while.  That’s when Ron had stepped in.  Ron, who had climbed the ranks in the MLE and was Assistant Deputy Auror at 25.  That’s when Harry realized that he had been in his new body for almost five years!  And he had not seen Ginny in over a year.  When he gave up hope of ever being with Ginny again, his days blurred together. 

Ron and Hermione were a constant in his life; he did live in the basement of their house after all.  He had given them Grimmauld Place shortly after the war had ended.  He had helped them gut the place and remake it into their own.  When Hermione had succeeded in bringing back her parents’ memories, they had married at the age of 20; two years after the end of the war. Harry had been staying with them at Grimmauld Place and he had been planning to move out after the newlyweds came back from their honeymoon.  However, that had been when the change had occurred. 

Out of the blue, on the first full moon after Ron and Hermione had been back from their trip around Europe and Asia, Harry had changed.  It was due to Ron’s quick thinking that Harry hadn’t torn his two best friends apart.  Dealing with enraged werewolves had been part of their training.  Harry had been stunned and summarily locked in the basement.  The next morning Ron and Hermione had come downstairs expecting to find their friend back to normal.  Instead they had found a conscious and guilty werewolf.  Nothing they did and no matter how hard Harry tried he could not make himself transform back into a human. 

That had been six years ago.  An investigation had yielded no results; no explanations had been found, no evil wizard had come out of the woodwork, nothing.  Though Hermione had been unable to find a cure, she had developed a spell to act like the wolfsbane potion and she had infused an amulet with the spell.  Harry now wore that amulet.  He was able to control himself during the full moons because of it.  About a month ago, Hermione and Ron had taken him for an outing in the Forest of Dean.  It had been just after Christmas and while the air was frigid, Harry had enjoyed the feeling of being able to run pell-mell after being cooped up in a basement for years.  They thought they had secured everything so Harry could have a bit of freedom, but some of his magic had still responded to his human side and he had escaped.  His human side didn’t want to continue to be a burden to his two best friends and his creature side wanted to be free. 

If that had been a month ago, then he had been running almost non-stop for weeks.  Harry was sure he must have gone in circles a lot in the beginning as he got used to his animal instincts and senses telling him where to go and how to hunt and how to hide from danger. 

As Harry thought about what had happened to him he kept an ear on the noises of the forest.  The night before he’d travelled through a small town and had only managed to find a couple of rats as food. He had made it to the cover of the forest by dawn, just in time to find a nice ditch to sleep in.  Now he was on the move again and he was hungry.  A twig snapped and he crouched down and crawled towards the source of the noise.  He sniffed the air and when he caught the smell his mouth watered.  It was a buck and he was getting closer to Harry’s hiding place.  Within seconds his prey became visible and before the buck had time to be frightened away, Harry leapt and sank his teeth into the neck and made his kill.  He feasted for the first time in ages.  He had never had something as big as a buck before.  It took him most of the night to slowly eat his fill.  He was sure he would be full for a while. 

Harry’s animal instincts knew that the day was a few hours away.  He looked up at the sky and though his hot breath created visible steam in the cold night air, could just make out the moon through the canopy of trees.  The next night would be a full moon.  He found a nice stream where he drank deeply.  Harry looked for a warm hiding place.  He found a place between a few tree roots.  He used what little dexterity he had to gather a pile of fallen leaves to sleep on.  He fell asleep to the sounds of birds awakening for the day. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~

 

A sudden sound awoke Harry a while before nightfall.  He looked around, alert, his pointed ears standing straight, trying to discern any sound.  After a moment he heard it; men and dogs.  Harry did not know why they were out so late in the day, but he knew they were hunters and this meant they had guns.  He quickly stood and took off at a loping run.  He heard the dogs barking and they came after him.  They were no match for his longer stride.  Within minutes he was well away from them.  Even though he was sure they were no longer chasing him, Harry kept running.  He felt as if he were running towards something.  Then it happened.  He ran straight through some sort of magical barrier.  He felt the magic trickle around him as he passed through it.  It had not felt like a ward; a ward would likely not have let him pass through. 

Harry came to a complete stop.  That was when he noticed that it was snowing.  Snow had begun to fall as he had been getting away from the hunters and their dogs.  It was coming down slowly, covering the ground and trees gradually in a blanket of white.  He looked up at it and caught a few flakes in his eyes and tongue.  He gave a wolfish laugh.  He looped around playing in the snow as the sun set.  The moon started to rise and Harry felt a stabbing pain in his abdomen.  He lay down and began to whimper as the pain continued.  Slowly, oh so very slowly his limbs began to contort.  He looked down at his front paws and saw them elongate and turn into fingers and hands.  He felt the same thing happen to his hind legs, they were contorting painfully and changing back to human legs.  The change must have taken around an hour.  It had been an hour full of excruciating pain.  He lay on his side naked and curled up in a ball as he regained his breath and his bearing as the pain receded. 

The full moon had caused Harry to change back into a human.  His first thought was to Apparate to friends, but he was too weak and without his wand he was likely to splinch himself.  He stood up on two shaky legs; it was almost novel to be walking on two legs again.  Harry tried to take a few steps forward, but his legs quickly gave way and he fell onto his knees.  He gave himself a minute to recover then stood again.  He took a step and didn’t fall, then another and then another.  His legs felt foreign, but the more he walked, the more familiar it felt.  He needed to get to shelter.  He was naked but for the amulet still around his neck.  Harry clutched it as the snow continued to fall.  Now that he didn’t have his thick fur to protect him, he rapidly became cold.

Harry remembered the magic barrier he had passed through.  It had kind of felt like a ward, and if a ward had been erected, someone had to have cast the necessary magic.  There must be someone nearby, someone magical, someone that could help him.  He figured that if he walked in the opposite direction of the magical barrier, he would have to eventually come into contact with a building or a person or both.  His progress was painfully slow; he was unused to his human body and his feet constantly kept stepping on sticks and stones that caused him pain.  On top of that without his glasses, which hadn’t been an issue in his werewolf form, his vision was blurry. 

The snow was also making it hard to advance.  Though it was only falling softly, it was still creating a pile of it on the ground.  His toes quickly became numb.  Harry worried he would get frostbite.  He made himself walk faster, pushing his new old legs.  He passed a copse of trees and that’s when he saw it.  A huge manor.  It looked strangely familiar, especially in the snow.  But maybe all old huge houses looked the same without his glasses.  He continued to push himself now that his goal was so close.  As he got closer he noticed a path.  He took care to walk on it since it likely meant less forest debris to walk on.  As he approached the house he noticed that the house was surrounded by a high stone wall and that the only entrance seemed to be the gate that the path was leading him to.  The wall was covered in a mixture of ivy and twining roses.  He furrowed his brows at seeing blooming roses in the midst of winter.  But he quickly dismissed it because _hello, magic_. 

When Harry reached the gate, He noticed it was slightly open as if waiting for him.  He stepped through and he heard the gate swing shut behind him.  He was so focused on his quest to find some place warm that he did not notice that when closed, the centre of the gates made a monogrammed M.  He walked up the gravel path, intent on the front door, which too seemed to be open.  And through it he could see a warm light.  He hardly noticed that around him were lush gardens, covered in snow, yes, but still in bloom. 

Once Harry reached the front door, he was unsure of whether he should enter this strange place or not.  He peered around the massive front door and could see a fire through another set of doors off the front hall.  It was too tempting to resist.  He stepped through and practically ran, as best his could, toward the room with the fire.  Again he did not notice that the front door shut behind him.  A coat rack stood innocently just to the right of the door. 

There was a very comfortable looking armchair in front of the fire; he used what little strength he had to drag it even closer to the warmth of the flames.  He sat down and let the heat wash over him.  As Harry sat there, feeling began to rush back into his feet and they began to ache.  He really hoped they were not frostbitten.  He wished he could place them closer to the fire.  That’s when he noticed a footrest next to his feet.  He furrowed his brows; he could have sworn it had not been there a second ago.  He decided not to give it much thought and reached over to bring it closer and low and behold there was a big pot of steaming water placed on top of it.  Harry looked around him, but there was no one else in the room.  He wildly thought that perhaps this house worked in the same way as the Room of Requirement did back at Hogwarts.  

“If so,” he said to himself as he placed the bowl on the floor and slowly submerged his feet in it, “I could use a warm blanket and some tea.”  He exhaled, leaned back into the armchair and closed his eyes.  He was starting to feel a bit languid.  He inhaled and could have sworn he smelled broth.  He opened his eyes and looked around.  In front of him and slightly to the left was a side table holding a tray.  The tray contained a tea set and a bowl of delicious smelling broth.  He picked up the bowl and a spoon.  It was very light with small pieces of chicken and vegetables.  It was the perfect thing to warm some of his still cold insides.  He consumed half the bowl before putting it down in order to fix himself his first cup of tea in half a dozen years.  It was heavenly.  The tea was very good quality.  He put in a little more sugar then he used to just to taste the sweetness and he added a splash of milk of course.  He took a big gulp, though he burned his tongue.  He then finished his broth.  Once done he cupped his tea in his hand and leaned back into the armchair again.  “Thank you,” Harry said into the empty room, “that was delicious and this tea is marvellous.” 

Harry fell asleep with the empty tea cup dangling loosely from his hand.  He did not notice the footrest move to catch it as it fell from his grasp or that the coat rack that had stood by the door earlier draped a warm blanket over him.  He didn’t even notice that the pot where his feet had been resting got up and walked away. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~

 

The rising sun that was peeking through the barely drawn curtain woke Harry the next morning.  He stood and stretched and the blanket that had been draped around him fell away.  He turned towards the window and smiled.  But then a pain started in his abdomen.  He remembered it form the night before.  

“Oh no,” he said aloud.  Harry crumpled to the ground as the pain spread throughout his body.  He was changing back into the beast that he had been.  He gave an agonised scream.  His body was once again contorting and twisting.  Bones were changing and muscles felt like they were being torn and reformed.  When the change had been completed, a werewolf lay panting on the rug before the dying fire.   The change had taken a toll on Harry and he promptly passed out.  He didn’t notice when a man came into the room.  The blond man gasped to see a werewolf sleeping in his parlour.  

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~

 

When Harry next awoke, it was to someone petting him.  No one had petted him in ages.  Whoever it was was running their hands through the fur on his back, occasionally scratching behind his ears.  The sensation momentarily distracted him and he took great pleasure in the petting.  His body even decided that it wanted a nice belly scratch so he rolled over. 

“Oh so you’ve woken up, have you,” a man’s voice said warmly.  “You don’t seem like such a horrid beast to me.  You seem quite docile, but my family and friends here believe that you’re some wild creature that will maul me at the smallest provocation.”  Harry opened his eyes and stared into the face of Draco Malfoy.  His ears twitched in surprise.  Malfoy laughed and took that as a negative response.  “I didn’t think you would want to eat me.” 

Malfoy continued to pet and scratch him.  It should have bothered Harry a little that Draco Malfoy was not scared of a werewolf, especially one that had suddenly appeared in his home overnight.  At one point, Harry even rolled over and allowed Malfoy to scratch his belly.  It briefly felt a bit shameless.  Malfoy continued talking, but this time he was not directing his speech towards Harry. 

“See, Mother, he’s completely harmless.  He hasn’t tried to bite my head off at all.  I know you were worried.  I could see you trembling so much that your lid almost fell off.  And Father, I know you were ready to whack him, but he hasn’t made any move to hurt me in any way. And whacking harmless animals is not very becoming of a coat rack.”  Harry looked over at who Malfoy was talking to and there was indeed a coat rack there, as well as a very fine teapot, the footrest and pot from the night before and a few other objects crowded around them.  This was all very odd.  Did Malfoy have conversation with inanimate objects on a regular basis?  Did he move said objects around with him?  If so, it was no wonder he was not afraid of Harry’s werewolf form.  Draco Malfoy was clearly as mad as a hatter. “He’s just a big loveable beastie.”  Harry looked over at Malfoy again and would have taken offence at that statement if Malfoy hadn’t at that moment found his sweet spot and caused his leg to twitch.  “I know he’s huge and those teeth of his are nothing to scoff at, however, he’s a softie at heart.”  Harry was really too far gone to pay much attention to the fact that Malfoy was maligning his ferociousness.  “I think I’ll keep him.” 

This last statement was met with a clatter from the objects clustered around them.  This racket caused Harry to startle and he jumped up and away, growling menacingly.  He looked around for the intruders but saw no one.  He calmed down slowly and looked back at Malfoy questioningly.  “It’s alright boy.  They might not like you now, but I’m sure you’ll grow on them.”  Harry was utterly confused.  There was clearly no one else but Malfoy and him in the room, yet Malfoy acted as if not only his parents were here, but probably a few others as well.  And that noise from earlier bothered him as well. 

Malfoy stood up and dusted off his trousers.  “Come along, boy.  I’ll give you a tour of the manor.  We’ll head to the kitchen last.  I’m sure by then Mitsy and Bitsy will have fixed us something delicious for breakfast.  And Mother will have made a perfect pot of tea.”  Malfoy looked over at the teapot lovingly.  Harry was almost sure that he saw the teapot straighten and colour a little, as if in reaction to the compliment. 

Malfoy walked out of the room and Harry decided to follow along.  It would be good to scope out the place.  Now that he thought back on it, he was pretty sure Malfoy had said he wanted to keep Harry and that would not do.  He would humour his old school rival for the moment; maybe until after breakfast, a meal would be nice after all. 

Harry was taken all over the upstairs of the manor first.  He got to see Malfoy’s bedroom, green-covered of course.  He was shown where the elder Malfoys slept, but actually going inside was forbidden unless by the permission of one of them.  Harry doubted he would ever need or want to go in there anyway.  Guest bedroom after guest bedroom came next, all done up in tasteful neutral colours.  Then came the family gallery.  Harry felt strange in this place.  He could not place why until Malfoy explained. 

“I know none of the portraits are moving, but I found out that was part of the curse.  When I first became desperate for companionship I came here, but I was horrified to find that all my ancestors had been frozen.  They’re now all like those dreadful Muggle paintings.  I saw them once at a museum that my father took me too for educational reasons.  It was horrible.”  Malfoy shuddered. 

There were a few other rooms upstairs that Harry was briefly shown.  Then he was taken downstairs again.  “Here’s the parlour we were in.  I do wonder how you got in there; how you got in the manor.  Or how you even got through the curse in the first place.  I’ve been here for around seven years and only birds have been able to get through that barrier.  I certainly could not get out.”  Harry’s interests were peeked.  That was the second time Malfoy had mentioned a curse.   Was Malfoy cursed to remain in the manor? That would explain why Harry hadn’t heard hide nor hair about the man since before he himself had been cursed. 

A few other rooms came up in the tour.  “I’ll leave the grounds for another day.  It's started snowing again, and a looks like a blizzard might be on its way.  Aren’t we glad we’re inside where it’s nice and warm?  There’s one more place I want to show you before we go to get our breakfast.  It’s my favourite room in the manor.  I’m so grateful for it.  Without its existence I’m sure I would have gone barmy by now.”  Harry was sure that if he had been in his human form he would have given Malfoy a sceptical look and commented on his state of mind. Instead, he settled for giving a kind of wolfish scoff.  Malfoy just gave him an odd look. 

Harry was lead towards the back and to the left of the manor.  Malfoy threw open a set of doors which revealed a grand and immense library, the likes of which Harry had never seen before in any house or depiction of a house.  There were shelves against every wall, a few nooks were tucked in here and there.  A set of spiral staircases bracketed a set of very comfortable looking armchairs, a chaise lounge and a table.  The staircases lead to a second floor of books.  The second floor had short rows of shelves crammed full of books.  Harry was duly impressed.  His first thoughts were of Hermione and the pure joy that would light up her eyes if she caught a sight of this place. 

“This, my werewolf friend, is the Malfoy Library.  It’s a collection of some of the rarer and popular books.  There is even a section, though small, dedicated to Muggle writers.  My father claimed to not have read any books from that section, but I’ve caught sight of him reading one or two tomes through the years.  I actually think he misses reading the most, in his state.  So I make it a point to dedicate a half hour or so each day to reading aloud so my father and the rest of them can get some form of entertainment.”  Malfoy smiled indulgently.  “Anyway, that’s the whole of the manor.  You of course have free reign of just about all of it.  Now let’s get to the kitchen.  I’m famished.”  Malfoy turned around and headed out of the library.  Harry took one final look at the magnificent library and then followed the former Slytherin to where there was food. 

A plate of breakfast had been set out for Malfoy at a small table in the kitchen near a window.  Along the wall was a plate of food for Harry along with a bowl of water.  Malfoy sat down and poured himself a cup of tea and doctored it to his liking.  He took a small sip and smiled.  “Perfect as ever, Mother.”  Harry had approached the plate of food and had been sniffing at it.  When Malfoy spoke he looked around expecting to see Narcissa Malfoy, but there was no one.  After a moment of listening carefully, Harry came to the conclusion that the two of them were indeed alone in the kitchen, so he went back to sniffing at the food.  He came to the conclusion that it was not poisoned and took a bite.  It was pretty good; barely cooked meat and some other things thrown in, but good nonetheless.  After deciding that it suited him he gave himself over to the act of eating.  

When Harry had licked his plate clean, he went over to the water bowl and drank.  Something made him go over to Malfoy and sit down next to the man’s chair.  Malfoy smiled as he finished his tea and reached over to pet Harry’s ear.  “You know, I’m going to have to give you a name.  This is going to need some thought.”  He poured himself another cup of tea and after fixing it just so, leaned back and fell into thought.  He didn’t stop his petting, so Harry remained right where he was. 

After some time, Malfoy turned to examine Harry’s werewolf form.  “Your fur is pitching black and seems rather unruly.  You also have some of the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen.  The only other time I’ve seen eyes like yours was back at Hogwarts.  The Boy Who Lived.”  Malfoy fell into thought again, but this time he seemed to be reminiscing, more than pondering a name for Harry.  Once again, Malfoy snapped himself out of his thoughts.  “You know what boy, I think I have a name for you.  It seems almost fitting.  I will name you Potter.” 

Harry was taken aback to say the least.  He didn’t for a second think that Malfoy had figured out who he really was, but there must be a reason for his having chosen that name of all names. 

“You want to know something that I came to realise whilst being here?”  Malfoy asked rhetorically.  “I used to idolise the Boy Who Lived.  I wanted to be his friend more than anything.  When I was rejected on the Hogwarts Express, it cut me deeply.  I didn’t want to believe that it had anything to do with my own failings.  In my head it was Potter who was flawed.  I believed him to be this arrogant and self-involved prat.”  Malfoy gathered his dirty dishes, walked them over to the counter and, much to Harry’s great surprise, began to wash them.  “I think it was right during seventh year, when I saw him but the one time, that I began to come to a realisation.  Potter wasn’t what I had made him out to be.  He was brave and he wanted to help save people. He even saved my life once; from a horrible death by Fiendfyre.  So that’s why I have decided to name you Potter.  While you look like a ferocious monster on the outside, on the inside you’re just a big softie.” 

Harry resented being called a big softie so he turned away from Malfoy and began to walk away.  He decided that now was as good a time as any to leave this place.  He didn’t want to be Malfoy’s pet. 

“Oh Potter, don’t get offended.  I meant that as a compliment.” Malfoy’s amused laughter followed him out of the kitchen. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Leaving was easier said than done.  Harry tried to get out of the manor the same way he had come in, but the door was closed.  And since he didn’t have any thumbs it would be rather difficult to get the door open.  He walked around the ground floor but found not many doors were open and certainly no windows would be open with the blizzard raging on outside.  Harry went back to the parlour from the night before; at least it was nice and warm, and plopped himself down in front the fire.  He would have to wait for an opportunity to escape.  Perhaps when the blizzard abated. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Harry stayed with Malfoy for a week before the snow had settled enough for him to feel comfortable travelling in it.  They had fallen into a routine in the meantime.  They had breakfast in the kitchens together and Malfoy would talk to Harry about his years living alone in the manor.  He almost never mentioned the curse except in passing.  After breakfast they would head to the parlour where there was a fire waiting and Malfoy would sit in an armchair and just sit and stare into the fire and pet Harry for around an hour.  He rarely said anything during this time. 

Afterward, Malfoy would go into the exercise room and run through an exercise routine.  “I have to make sure I stay in shape.  If I didn’t exercise I’ll end up looking like Greg.  Though now-a-days, he’s rather thin.”  Harry noticed that he didn’t mention Crabbe.  During this time Harry would sit near the door and just watch Malfoy. 

At noon they would walk around the house, mainly for the exercise.  However, Harry suspected that Malfoy checked to make sure items were still around the house.  There were a candelabra in the library that he was particularly fond of. There was a music box in one of the guest rooms that Malfoy liked to carry around with him and reminisce about Hogwarts to.  There were a few other objects here and there that Malfoy was also fond of. 

Lunch was usually served at one, again in the kitchen.  After lunch Malfoy would lead Harry to the library and gathered around the armchairs were all the objects that Malfoy liked to speak with.  They would spend two hours in the library; Malfoy would read a few chapters out of a book aloud to the objects.  That week it happened to be Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert.  For some reason, Harry got the impression that the footstool was especially interested in the tale. 

Harry too would become engrossed in the story and would not notice when the teapot went missing until it magically appeared at around three in the afternoon with a full tea service complete with a few snacks for Harry. 

On the fifth day of this routine, Malfoy sat, drinking his tea and looking at Harry, when he suddenly said, “I don’t believe I’ve told you my name.”  Harry looked up from his spot on the rug and tilted his head.  “I guess I just got so used to thinking of you as Potter and since the real Potter knows my name…” Malfoy shrugged.  “Anyway, my name is Draco Lucius Malfoy.  Draco after the constellation.  It’s sort of a family tradition on my mother's side to be named after a constellation.  Lucius, after my father and Malfoy, of course is my surname.  Please, do think of me as Draco.”  Harry unconsciously nodded his head.  Draco smiled and went back to his tea. 

Dinner was served in the big dining room and Draco always dressed for dinner.  “Mother always insisted that we be presentable for dinner.  And I always change into something appropriate because I am sure Mother would not approve if I didn’t.  And I’d probably end up with dreadful tea as a consequence.” 

During dinner, again all the objects that Draco was fond of would appear in the dining room.  Harry found this strange since he never saw Draco carry any of them in, except maybe the music box or a silver hand mirror.  Yet there they all would be: the footstool, the candelabra, the teapot, a rug, a broom, the music box, the hand mirror and a menacing looking coat rack.  Yes, the coat rack always looked menacing and when Harry encountered it alone, it almost seemed to threaten him.  He tended to sit well away from that coat rack. 

After dinner, Draco would go for a short walk around the manor, making sure all of the objects were where they should be.  For some reason the coat rack and teapot always ended up together either in the kitchen or the library.  The music box was occasionally left in the parlour with the footrest and candelabra.  The hand mirror, rug and broom all were taken a guest room, usually a different one every night.  “For a bit of change.  I wouldn’t want them to get bored of looking at the same scenery every night,” Draco told Harry the second night after placing the above three objects in a different room from the first night. 

Once every object was settled, Draco would take Harry to the conservatory.  Harry would have a nice wander around and find a spot to do his business.  “It’s too cold and wild outside to let you out just yet,” Draco claimed.  Harry suspected that he was a bit scared that his werewolf friend would take off and not return. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

On the seventh day, the snow had let up and everything was peaceful and white outside.  When Draco awoke he took Harry to the back gardens and let him do his business outside for once.  Harry walked back to Draco once he was done, and he could see the relief on the blond man’s face when he caught sight of Harry returning. He was petted and hugged and over Draco’s shoulder he could see the coat rack; if it had eyes Harry was almost certain it would have narrowed them in warning. 

At breakfast, Harry got his first taste of tea in his werewolf form.  Harry ate his breakfast quicker than Draco, as had been the norm.  Then he headed over to Draco’s side to be petted.  He had grown rather fond of being touched.  He blamed it on the lack of human contact over the last several years.  Draco had poured an extra cup of tea and after adding one teaspoon of sugar and a dash of milk (just the way Harry usually liked it) he placed it in front of him.  He tilted his head in question and Draco had laughed.

 

“Go ahead, give it a taste. A little bit of tea every now and then shouldn’t do you any harm.  It’s practically a British institution to have tea as many times a day as you can.”  Draco buttered his toast.  “You’re here so you must be British,” he took a bite of his toast and watched Harry.  “Have at it.”  Harry sniffed the tea.  It didn’t smell bad to his werewolf senses.  He’d had his first cup of tea in years a week ago and part of him was eager to have another taste, but he was still wary.  

Draco finished chewing.  “Go on, Potter.  It’s just tea.  It’s not going to kill you.  You’ve seen me drink around ten cups a day and I’m still alive.” He continued to eat his toast. 

Harry gave a wolfish sigh and bent his head to take a tentative lap of the tea.  It didn’t taste quite the same; it was stronger, more robust.  The flavours burst on his more sensitive taste buds.  He decided that he didn’t hate it.

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Afterwards, Draco had sat in front of the fire in the parlour as usual.  When he got up to head to the exercise room, he first let Harry out for a moment.  He came back after finishing his business because he decided that was not how he wanted to leave this man who had cared for him for the past week.  He did make sure to use his tail to keep the door closing all the way however. 

The day went on as usual.  That afternoon, Draco finished Madame Bovary, much to the footstool’s disappointment.  “Oh Blaise, don’t be so sad it’s over.  Just think of the next great book that’s to come,” Draco consoled as he slipped the book back to its place on the shelf.  “Tomorrow I’ll pick out another book.  Perhaps something by Miss Austen.  You seemed to enjoy the last book I read by her.”  Harry though he saw the teapot, music box, and hand mirror nod in agreement.  It must have been a trick of the candlelight; the candelabra was right next to them after all.  “I knew you girls would like that.  Alright Mother, I know you’re not a girl, per se, but you do like Jane Austen.” 

Harry had come to realise that Draco had given his favoured objects the names of his friends and family.  Though he couldn’t figure out why the rug and broom were Mr and Mrs Greengrass. 

That night when Draco was asleep, Harry got up from his place at the foot of the bed and walked quietly out of the green bedroom.  The manor was rather creepy at night, especially without Draco to light the way with his wand.  Though he rarely used his wand, but for the most mundane of spells.  The house seemed to be self-cleaning and it always provided Draco and Harry with food.  He had never seen nor heard of a house that did those things, magical or otherwise.  He wondered why it hadn’t bothered him until now. 

He must have taken a wrong turn somewhere because Harry ended up walking through the Gallery.  It was ever more disturbing by night.  Those portraits really should be moving, and snoring like the ones in the Headmaster’s office at Hogwarts.  Finally he found himself on the ground floor.  That's when it hit him; this had been the house where Harry, Ron and Hermione had been held prisoners.  In the dark, everything came flooding back to him.  Harry wandered through the rooms that he had seen by daylight now for a week, and remembered.  Hermione had been tortured by Bellatrix in that room; the door was open, but neither Draco nor Harry had been in this room since the first day during the tour.  He didn’t go in, he trotted right passed it. 

The memories fuelled his desire to get away.  He reached the back room where he had managed to leave the door open.  It was freezing; the cold from the open door had permeated it.  The wind had blown the door wide open and now littered the ground in front of the open French door.  Harry stared at his door to freedom and had a moment of guilt.  Draco seemed so lonely and he had gotten such comfort for Harry’s presence.  It was clear that he hadn’t had any human contact in the years of his curse.  It was also clear that other than his treasured objects he hadn’t had any other kind of contact with _any_ other sentient being. 

He took one look back and then made for the door.  He was only a few feet away from the door when it slammed shut.  It was impossible.  The wind could not possibly have closed it!  Then Harry saw it, the coat rack.  It was stood by the wall where the door had been only seconds before.  No, it couldn’t be.  The coat rack could not have closed the door.  There was no possible way. 

He began to pace in front of the closed doors.  Thinking.  He wondered how he was supposed to escape now.  He kept throwing the coat rack suspicious looks, but it continued to just ‘stand’ there.  After a while he gave up thinking.  Without thumbs, he was out of luck.  He would just have to wait for another opportunity to escape.  Harry sighed and made his way back upstairs to Draco’s room, too preoccupied with thoughts of the possibility that a coat rack had foiled his plan of escape to really think about the creepiness of the Malfoy Manor. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Over the course of the next three weeks, Harry had made many an attempt to escape.  Each time he made a try at freedom, he felt a little guiltier for wanting to leave Draco.  Draco Malfoy had been his schoolboy nemesis, by all means he should still hate him, or at the very least resent and dislike him.  However, he found himself relating to him.  Draco too was trapped in a situation not of his choosing.  Harry was trapped in the body of the werewolf and the other man was trapped in an old empty house. 

But it wasn’t the guilt that had kept him at the manor.  The objects that Draco spoke to seemed to be somehow conspiring to keep Harry in the manor.  He hadn’t seen them move, not really, but he was sure they must be doing just that.  On one such occasion when Harry had tried to make his escape, the hand mirror just happened to be propped up at the right angle so that when he had headed towards an open door, he had been blinded by the light reflecting off of it.  It had affected him long enough for Draco to call Harry away.  He had felt compelled to obey the call. 

Another time, he was sure the broom had tripped him, causing him to fall and hit his head against a wall hard enough to be disoriented.  All he had wanted to do was sleep and he had until Draco found him 20 minutes later.  Yet another time, his legs had somehow become wrapped up in the fringe around the rug.  It had taken him some time to get free.  He had wanted to tear and rip the blasted thing, but had held off in deference to Draco’s feelings. 

So it was that four weeks had come and gone and Harry was still keeping Draco company as a pet.  It had gotten to the point where he was now actually sleeping in Draco’s bed.  It was rather warm. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

The night of the full moon found Harry snuggled into Draco’s bed.  The owner of said bed had decided to retire early since another snow storm had hit and it was rather cold.  Harry did not object.  He had been feeling rather cold himself for most of the day.  Draco and he were fast asleep when the tingling on his abdomen began.  Harry came awake with a start. 

“Shh, Potter, go back to sleep.  Mother will mend your clock in the morning,” Draco mumbled as he patted Harry’s head reassuringly, clearly more than half asleep. 

Harry knew what was about to happen.  He had completely forgotten that it was a full moon.  The pain began to grow and he tried to quietly slip out of bed, but before he could his limbs began to contort and the change started.  It was slightly less painful than the first time, which kept him from making too many noises.  When it was over, he lay in a naked heap on Draco Malfoy’s bed.  He took a moment to catch his breath and compose himself.  He looked over to the foot of the bed, but the other occupant seemed to sleep on. 

He tentatively got off the bed, remembering that last time his legs had given out from under him on his first attempt to stand upright.  Once he was able to stand, he looked around for something to wear.  Harry saw Draco’s robe thrown over a chair.  He decided that would do for the moment.  He walked over to the window and looked out.  The snow storm still raged outside.  It would be a bad idea to try and escape now. 

He found a pair of Draco’s slippers and put them on.   Then he headed towards the kitchen.  He decided that if he was going to be stuck in the manor in his human form, he might as well do a few things he couldn’t do as a werewolf.  In the kitchen, he found a pot of tea waiting for him.  And to his great pleasure and surprise there were also a few mini treacle tarts.

 When he finished his midnight snack Harry made his way upstairs again.  He found a guest bedroom a good distance away from Draco’s room.  Then he ran a bath.  It had been ages since he’d had a nice long bath.  Sure, Hermione and Ron, and now Draco, had bathed him.  But there was nothing like getting to soak in a nice bath and just relax.  There were a few bottles around the tub; he uncapped and smelled a few until he found one he liked.  He then poured a bit into his bath. 

As soon as the bath was full, Harry stepped out of the slippers and stripped off the robe he was wearing.  He slid into the tub with a sigh of pleasure.  The hot bath was doing wonders to sooth his aching muscles form the transformation.  He closed his eyes and just let himself relax for a moment.  He felt the tiniest ripple of magic at his side.  He opened his eyes languidly and found a glass of fire whiskey within reach.  He thought about leaving it there, but gave in to temptation after a second of thought.  The liquid burned his throat, but warmed his insides.  He became even more relaxed than before.  

Harry languished in the tub until the water began to cool.  He quickly washed before the water became too cold.  He dried himself and then slipped back into the robe and slippers.  He finished off the fire whiskey and left the guest room.  He paused outside the room to think of what he could do next.  He yawned and realised he was sleepy.  Naturally he made his way back to Draco’s room.  Once there, he removed the few items he was wearing and without thinking about it, slipped into the bed next to a sleeping Draco. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

A few minutes before sunrise, Harry awoke to someone snuggling and rutting against his leg.  Harry rutted back instinctively.  Draco’s clothed hard length rubbed against his naked thigh.  He thrust his own erection against Draco’s thigh.  The other man was panting and whimpering into his ear.  The sounds were driving him mad.  Harry pulled his head back to get a better look at Draco.  He realised that Draco was still asleep; his face was flushed and beaded with sweat, but his eyes remained firmly closed. 

As Harry watched, Draco stiffened.  He felt a wetness spread against his thigh as Draco moaned through his orgasm.  Harry continued to rub himself against Draco, wanting desperately to come as well.  His balls began to tighten and suddenly he too was in the throes of his orgasm.  Draco had settled back into a peaceful slumber.  Harry lay with his arms wrapped around him and tried not to think about what had just happened.  It was in the midst of not thinking about the incident that a now familiar feeling began in his abdomen.  He was about to change back.  He tried to extricate himself from Draco’s arms, but said arms just tightened around him and he vaguely heard an annoyed mumble. 

He bit his lip in order not to scream in pain as the change took over.  This time the transformation happened quicker than the times previously.  Before he knew it, his werewolf body was being hugged by a bewildered Draco. 

“Oh Potter, I just had a strange dream,” Draco blushed as he let Harry go.  “I think I’ll get up now and have a bath.”  Draco jumped out of bed and scurried into his ensuite.  Harry was left wondering how Draco could have missed the naked man turning into a werewolf right in his bed. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

That day, Draco kept throwing Harry thoughtful looks.  But the following day, all seemed to be forgotten. 

The weeks started to go by quicker for Harry.  January turned into February and the snow stopped falling so frequently.  It was nearing the end of February when Draco went outside after breakfast instead of his usual hour of pondering.  He led Harry towards a shed where he withdrew gloves, a pair of shears and a basket.  “I thought it would be a good idea to pick some roses for the house.”  Harry was puzzled until he saw the roses that were still blooming all over the place.  He remembered having seen roses everywhere when he’d first arrived at the manor.   

Draco busied himself with filling his basket with roses of various colours.  Harry briefly considered using this opportunity to run away, but he caught sight of the broom and rug near the door they had exited through and quickly reconsidered.  Instead he wandered around the garden admiring all the different roses and their intoxicating scent. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

During the next full moon, Harry was ready.  Once he was certain Draco was asleep, he exited the room and went downstairs.  He transformed in the parlour and went straight to the library.  The candelabra was already lit when he walked in.  He chose a book from the shelf and began to read.  A few hours into his book, a tea service appeared in front of him.  He awkwardly thanked the tea pot and poured himself a cup.  Again there were a few mini treacle tarts for him.

 He finished his tea and placed his book back on the shelf.  He found the bedroom from the month before and once again drew himself a bath.  This time instead of heading back to Draco’s room, he lay down on the bed that was in the guest bedroom.  He slept for a few hours.  

Harry woke up some time later to someone calling for him.  It was Draco.  He wanted to know where Potter was and he sounded quite panicked.  He lay frozen in place as he heard the voice get closer and closer to where he was.  He thought about hiding under the bed, but that’s when it happened; the tingling started and he started to change.  He didn’t notice Draco opening the bedroom door.  He didn’t hear the surprised gasp that the blond emitted.  

Suddenly there was a werewolf where a man had been before. 

“Potter!  Why didn’t you tell me?”  Draco accused as he ran towards him.  Harry whimpered.  “Are you telling me that for the last two months you’ve been transforming into a man during the full moon?”  Harry nodded.  “But you should have said something.”  Draco looked hurt.  Harry made a noise that must have sounded like an apology because Draco’s expression softened.  “It’s alright.  I forgive you.”  Draco began petting him.  “Is it painful?  Are you in pain now?”  Harry whimpered and made himself look as miserable as possible.  Even though he wasn’t in pain any more, he wanted Draco to continue to pet him.  “Oh you poor dear.”  Draco indeed continued his petting and threw in a few scratches for his belly as well. 

It was only later, during breakfast that a thought struck Harry.  The snow had stopped falling.  It was again safe enough to travel, especially if he borrowed some of Draco’s clothes.  Yet he hadn’t even thought about escaping. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

For the next two weeks, Draco talked to Harry even more than usual.  He was so curious to find out who his Potter really was.  They figured out a system where Harry could answer yes or no questions.  “Are you British?”  Harry was able to nod.  “Are you blond?”  Harry shook his head.  And on the questions went. 

At the end of those two weeks a thought finally occurred to the Draco.  “Wait a minute!  If you turn into a man during the full moon, and then back once the sun rises, does that mean that my dream from the month before wasn’t a dream after all?”  Harry hid his head under his paws.  “Oh Merlin.  That’s embarrassing.”  Harry peaked through his paws and saw that Draco was bright red.  “Though if I remember my _dream_ correctly, you didn’t object.”  Harry had to walk away at that point.  Even though he was a werewolf, he thought he felt his face warm. 

The two weeks that followed were only slightly less full of chatter. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

After dinner on the night of the full moon, Draco quickly dispersed his beloved objects into their respective places (according to Draco’s logic).  He then led Harry into his room, as usual.  He changed into his pyjamas and took out a spare set.  He placed them on a chair near the bed, motioned for Harry to climb onto the bed and did the same himself. 

Then they waited.  Draco sat with his legs crossed and his back against his pillows watching him.  They didn’t have long to wait.  Harry felt the familiar tingle and the pain of transformation took over momentarily and he closed his eyes.  When the pain subsided, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes.  Draco was gaping at him. 

“Potter, you’re Potter.”  Harry smiled at that statement. 

“Ah,” Harry cleared his throat.  “Yes, I suppose I am.”  He straightened and mimicked Draco’s pose, legs crossed and sitting on the bed. 

Draco’s eyes travelled from his eyes to his scar and hair.  “I didn’t think I would ever see anyone I knew again.”  He dropped down onto all fours and crawled towards Harry.  “You know that I haven’t seen another human being in so long.”  When he was right in front of the freshly transformed man, Draco reached out and touched Harry’s shoulder quickly.  “I almost cannot believe you’re actually here.”  His eyes had filled with tears.  

“I am.  It’s really me.  It’s Harry,” he said as he offered Draco a smile. 

That was it, Draco launched himself at Harry.  Harry fell back and almost hit his head on the footboard.  He didn’t mind, much.  Draco was crying quietly and holding on to him as if he could vanish at any moment.  He brought his own arms to circle Draco’s waist and hugged back almost as fiercely.  Hugs were nice. 

It took a while, but eventually Draco calmed down.  He lifted himself away from Harry, and smiled.  “Sorry about my reaction-” 

“Don’t worry about it, I understand completely.”  Harry smiled back. 

Draco’s eyes travelled across Harry’s face again.  “It really is you.”   Harry nodded.  His eyes continued down his neck and chest and then Draco blushed wildly and threw himself away from Harry.  “Oh, you’re still…ah…naked.” He reached over and handed over the spare set of pyjamas.  Harry dressed quickly.  “So what do you usually do when you’re human?” 

“I have some tea and usually there are some treacle tarts waiting for me as well.” 

“Of course, Mitsy and Bitsy are probably responsible for those.”  Draco walked towards the door.  “Well come on, then, let’s get you that tea.” 

Draco took Harry to the kitchens and just watched as he drank his tea and ate his mini tarts.  Harry felt a bit awkward just being watched as he ate, but he could not begrudge Draco his staring.  When he finished, he awkwardly thanked Bitsy and Mitsy, whoever they were, for the tarts.  “Oh and the tea as perfect as ever.” 

“Mitsy and Bitsy don’t make the tea.  That would be Mother,” Draco looked tenderly at the tea pot on the table. 

“Right,” Harry decided to humour him, “Thank you for the lovely tea Mrs Malfoy.” 

“Mother is happy you liked it.  Now, what next?”  Draco asked eagerly. 

“Well, I, er, usually take a bath in one of the guest bedrooms so as not to disturb you.”  Harry scratched his head sheepishly. 

“Tonight you shall use my bath, it’s better than any of the guest baths,” Draco stated as he stood, grabbed Harry’s hand and hauled him upstairs, back to his room and straight to his bathroom.  “I’ll draw you the best bath you’ve ever had.” 

Harry watched as Draco turned the taps and regulated the water.  He selected a bottle and dumped some of its contents into the water.  Before long huge green bubbles began to form at the top of the water.  “Don’t think that I like these bubbles because they’re green.  They’re green because they have eucalyptus extract in them which helps to relax the muscles.”  Draco picked up another bottle and poured in a small amount into the water as well.  Harry recognized it as the bottle he had used before.  “This is my favourite scent plus it leaves my skin feeling amazing.” 

The taps shut themselves off after the bath was sufficiently full.  “All ready.  Hop in,” Draco gestured towards the tub. 

“Are you going to stay in here as I bathe?”  Harry asked. 

Draco blushed.  “I hadn’t thought about it.  I don’t think I’m ready to let you out of my sight.”  He looked away bashful. 

“I understand.  Why don’t you find a chair and bring it in here while I get in the bath.  The bubbles should cover my modesty.  Plus we’re both blokes so, yeah.”  Draco nodded and left to find a chair.  Harry quickly stripped and climbed into the bath.  He realised that the bath smelled exactly like Draco.  He refused to think about the fact that out of all those bottles that night two month ago, he choose the one that must have reminded him of Draco.  It had nothing to do with anything, not at all. 

With Draco seated in a comfortable looking armchair next to Harry, he summoned a bottle of fire whiskey and some glasses after Harry mentioned it was what he’d been drinking during his baths. 

Harry stayed in the bath telling Draco about how he mysteriously became a werewolf all those years ago.  He told him about Hermione’s effort to find a cure or a way to break the curse, and about her development of the amulet which Harry still wore around his neck.  He told him everything about his life as a werewolf thus far.  They were both baffled as to why all of a sudden Harry started transforming back into a human during the full moon if before he had remained a creature.  Harry believed it had something to do with the magical barrier he had crossed.  It had felt sort of like wards, but different. 

“That must be the curse’s barrier,” Draco explained.  “When I was first cursed, I tried to leave the manor, but no matter which way I went, I always hit a barrier I could not cross.  I tried using all manner of spells on it.  I tried Apparating, and that certainly did not work.” 

“How did you end up cursed in the first place?”  Harry asked as he started to scrub himself.  He was starting to prune and the water was at the not pleasant side of cold. 

Draco sighed.  “I’d rather not talk about that now.”  He stood up.  “I’ll return this armchair and give you a minute to finish your bath.  I’ll also bring a clean set of pyjamas.”  He was out of the door before Harry could say anything. 

He quickly finished cleaning himself.  He stepped out of the bath and was drying his hair when Draco came back.   So basically he was once again naked in front of Draco.  “Oh, um, I brought you something to wear.” 

Harry lowered the towel as not awkwardly as possible.  “Great.  Thanks.”  He had positioned the towel to cover his bits without seeming too obvious about, he hoped.  He grabbed the clothes out of Draco’s hands.  

The other man turned around and walked out of the room.  “I’ll just wait out here.” 

Once dressed, Harry stepped back into the bedroom.  He was feeling rather sleepy now.  And by the looks of Draco’s posture and the bags under his eyes, he was too. 

“Should we maybe get to sleep now,” Harry suggested. 

“I…I’d hate for your time as a human to be wasted.” 

“Don’t worry about it.  I don’t mind,” Harry moved towards the bed. 

“Oh, er, right. So you’ll be sleeping in my bed, with me.”  

Harry’s step faltered.  He hadn’t really thought about it, but he did see how that could be a bit weird.  “I guess I’m just so used to our routine from when I’m a werewolf.” 

“Of course.  It’s alright.  I don’t mind,” Draco slipped under the covers.  Harry joined him before he had time to think about how it might be awkward.

However, a few seconds later, the two men were laying on the bed on their backs with a span of about two feet between them and it was indeed awkward. 

They lay there for a very uncomfortable five minutes, both stiff as boards.  Harry sighed.  He opened his mouth to tell Draco he would go and sleep in one of the guest rooms, but Draco spoke before he could. 

“Do you remember what happened that first time you transformed while in the manor?”  Draco asked and turned to look at him. 

Harry cleared his through because it suddenly felt rather dry.  “Yes.” 

“Do you think we could do that again?” Draco said in a whisper.

 Harry didn’t know what to say, but his cock seemed to be interested.  “Uh, what exactly do you mean?”  He wanted to make sure he wasn’t getting things confused. 

“Would it be alright if we, you know, cuddled?”  

Harry was blushed.  So he had been getting things wrong. “Um…” 

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Draco rushed to say.  “But I kind of miss human contact and I just thought it would be nice.” 

Harry’s heart melted.  “Of course.  Yes.  Yes, it would be nice.”  He turned his head and smiled at Draco.  He was treated to another of Draco’s brilliant smiles.  Why had he never noticed the way Draco smiled while at Hogwarts?  

“Great.”  Draco scooted closer to him, placed his head on Harry’s shoulder and threw his arm around his stomach.  Harry wrapped both of his arms around the other man and snuggled his nose into the blonde’s hair.  It was soft and smelled divine. 

Draco seemed to drop off to sleep almost at once.  Harry only had enough time to think that the reason that he hadn’t seen Draco smile at Hogwarts was because they hadn’t been friends.  However, he now believed they were. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

A few hours later, Harry was awakened by a cock being pressed against the side of his thigh.  Draco had thrown a leg on top of him and was gently thrusting his erection against him.  He was basically in the same position he had gone to sleep in, so yes, there was a sleeping man pressing himself against him.  Except when he looked over, the man was not sleeping at all.

 “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself, “said Draco as he hid his face in Harry’s shoulder, but didn’t stop thrusting.  

That’s all the permission his aroused and feverish body needed.  He turned towards Draco and pressed down into him.  Draco responded with a gasp.  He wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders and hooked one leg around Harry’s calf.  He could hear every moan and gasp that Draco made as he thrust down, pressing his erection into Draco’s.  They were both still clothed, and he wished for a second he had woken up naked like the last time they had done this, but then stopped thinking because Draco bit his earlobe.  Who would have guessed that would have set him off. 

Before he was ever ready, Harry had thrown his head back and the warm wetness of his orgasm was spreading through his trousers.  Draco gave one final thrust and found his own release.  Harry clasped onto the other man and they lay breathing heavily for a few minutes. 

Harry was the first to recover.  He rolled off of Draco and settled back.  He was feeling lethargic and instinctively he knew that the sunrise was just a few minutes away. 

Draco finally caught his breath and turned to look at Harry.  “That was…” 

Harry smiled when Draco trailed off.  “Yeah, it really was.” 

“It’s not going to make things weird is it?”  Draco looked so cute with his hands tucked under his face. 

Harry realised in that moment that he might be a little bit in love with the man lying next to him.  He swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat at that thought.  “No, I don’t think it will.  I am a werewolf for more than 90 percent of the time.” 

Draco laughed.  “That’s true.  You do kind of depend on me to feed you and such.” 

“Hey!  I’m perfectly capable of fending for myself.  I’m a good hunter and was catching my own meals before I arrived here.” 

“Be that as it may, you are now a werewolf who has for all intents and purposed been domesticated.  You drink tea out of a teacup in the morning, for Merlin’s sake.” 

Harry sighed.  Draco had a point there.  He was a rather spoiled werewolf now.  “And whose fault is that?” 

Draco’s smile widened, “It’s mine.  But I don’t regret it.” 

“No, I don’t believe I do either.”  Harry smiled back.  They smiled at each other like idiots.  Harry kept staring at Draco’s lips.  He suddenly felt the urge to kiss him.  And by the way Draco’s eyes kept flicking towards Harry’s lips, the other man the same idea. 

His old Gryffindor courage surged up and he leaned forward.  His mouth was but an inch away from Draco’s when the familiar ache began in his abdomen.  Of course, just when he was about to kiss Draco. 

Harry pulled away from Draco and for a second the other man looked hurt until he realised what was happening.  Harry looked at him apologetically and managed to mouth “I’m sorry” before he was once again a werewolf.  He was stuck as a werewolf for another month! 

Draco stroked his fur sadly.  “Oh Potter.  I’m sorry.  This must be worse than being a true werewolf.”  He pushed his face into Harry’s neck.  And if he felt it become a little damp, he didn’t mind.  The two of them fell asleep. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Harry could feel a prickling down his back.  His werewolf instincts were telling him that someone was watching him.  And it was likely not a nice someone.  He was still in bed with a sleeping Draco; he was curled up against the other man.  He lifted his head and looked around the room.  At first he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.  But he did a double take when he noticed that the bedroom door was slightly ajar.  That’s when he knew that the danger was right next to him.  He turned his head slowly and there it was!  The bloody coat rack. 

Harry jumped up and out of the bed. 

Draco came awake with a start.  “Wah…Father?  What are you doing here?” 

Harry was now under the bed.  He was convinced that the coat rack Draco believed was his father was evil.  If it really was Lucius Malfoy, then Harry had every right to fear it.  Especially after he has just been caught in bed with the Former Death Eater’s son. 

“Harry?”  Draco called.  “Potter?  Where did you go?”  Draco leaned over the side of the bed and peaked under the bed.  He laughed when he saw that Harry was hiding.  “Potter, you silly werewolf.  What are you doing down there?”  Harry looked in the direction of the coat rack.  He could see its legs from his hiding place.  “Oh.  Don’t mind father.  He’s just worried because it would seem I’ve overslept.”  Draco dropped his voice.  “And we both know why.”  He smiled at Harry and blushed.  “The blood’s rushed to my head, so I’m getting up now.”  His face disappeared from Harry’s view and he stupidly missed it. 

Harry stayed under the bed until Draco had carried the coat rack out of the room.  “We’ll be down in a few, Father.  Please tell Mother, Bitsy and Mitsy not to worry.”  Then he closed the door.  “Right, Potter, out from under the bed.  I don’t know about you, but I need a shower.”  Draco walked over to the bathroom.  

He left the door open.  

Harry usually didn’t follow the other man when he went into the bathroom.  But this time he followed and he found a nice spot with the perfect view. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Breakfast was a bit of an awkward affair.  Not between Draco and Harry.  They carried on as they usually did.  However, Harry had the distinct feeling that the coat rack knew what they had done the night before (and it was not very happy about it).  He was also sure that the teapot knew. 

Later while they were in the parlour, Harry got the feeling that the music box had winked at him.  Which was ridiculous because music boxes do not wink; they don’t even have eyes! 

By the end of the day, Harry was convinced that not only did the teapot and coat rack know what Harry and Draco had gotten up to (if not exact details then at least the general idea), but the candelabra, the broomstick, the rug, the silver hand mirror, and the footrest (who was acting strangely, almost salacious, you know, if footrests could express themselves in a pervy manner) all knew as well. 

Harry was very glad when bed time came around.  He reluctantly followed Draco around the house as he put his beloved objects away; feeling strangely naked all the while.  Which was ridiculous because he was a werewolf and though he wore no clothes he had plenty of fur. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Draco began regaling Harry with storied about himself.  He told him about the time he was five and accidentally managed to turn a house elf into a caricature of his now late Aunt Matilda.  Aunt Matilda had not been pleased.  She had sent Draco a lump of coal every Christmas for years to come.  She had died the year before he went off to Hogwarts, but the lumps of coal had kept coming in the post every Christmas without fail until the year Voldemort came back.  They had resumed after the war, but now nothing came because of the curse. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

The next night, Draco told Harry about the time Pansy and he snuck into the Hogwarts kitchens.  They had heard the week before that if you ticked the pear in the painting of the fruit bowl the entrance to the kitchens will appear.  However, the sixth years they had heard it from had neglected to say where the painting was located.  They had spent a week looking for it.  When they had found it, they had tickled it, it had laughed and squirmed and turned into a doorknob.  The house elves were so happy to have visitors.  Draco and Pansy had been treated to left over roast and as many sweets as they could eat.  Needless to say Draco had overeaten because he did have a sweet tooth after all.  Pansy stayed by his side all night as he squirmed in bed with a bad stomach ache.  She had even helped him into the bathroom, going so far as to hold his hair back as he had vomited. 

“I miss talking to her sometimes.  Actually, that’s not right.  I talk to her a lot still, but I miss her talking back.  She really was a snarky witch.” 

Draco talked as if she had died.  But Harry was sure he would have heard of it if she had.  So he looked at Draco with a puzzled expression on his wolfish face. 

“The curse got her too, you know.” 

Harry didn’t know.  But he wished he did. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Little by little, Draco was starting to let things slip about the curse.  Harry was starting to realise that while Draco had been cursed to a life of solitude for some reason, his friends and family had also been cursed.  All those objects that Draco was so fond of were actually people he cared for transformed into mostly inanimate objects.  They had some magic which was how they had stopped Harry leaving.  It was also how the coat rack, who was indeed Lucius Malfoy, had ended up in Draco’s room the night after Harry and his son had um, yeah. 

Harry didn’t quite understand why Draco’s friends and mother and father had been cursed as well.  He really hoped to learn more soon. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

He didn’t have to wait long.  A week before the March full moon, Draco told Harry everything. 

“I think it’s time I told you about the curse that I’m under.”  Draco had settled into bed for the night and he was leaning against the headboard.  Harry immediately lifted his head and tried to appear as if he was intent on listening without seeming too eager.  In reality he was dying to know. 

“Well you see…”  Draco cleared his throat.  “It’s sort of doesn’t cast me in a good light.” 

Harry gave him an “Oh really?” look which he hoped conveyed he had gone to Hogwarts with the little snot that had been Draco Malfoy. 

“I guess you of all people would know what sort of person I used to be.  Because you have to know that I’m no longer that person.  Not really.”  Harry nodded.  “Right.  It was a few years after the war and frankly I was a bit lacklustre.  We, my family that is, were not as respected as we used to be.”  Harry snorted.  “Okay, our name was basically mud.  My mother convinced me to get my NEWTs via owl-post.  We had enough money left over to live comfortably, sure, but Father wanted to rebuild the Malfoy name. At some point, I stopped caring, I again became whatever my father wanted me to be.  I went out looking for work, but it was impossible to find anything.”  Draco sighed.  “Then again, I didn’t really put my best foot forward.  I didn’t put much effort into it. 

“My mother came up with the idea of marrying me off to someone whose family had come out unscathed from the war.  There were very few choices.  With Father’s help they narrowed the possible candidate down to two: Astoria Greengrass and Madeline Dubois.  My mother did some social digging while my father investigated the families.  Mother had me attend a few parties here and there (ones we were still invited to) and socialise with the two witches.  I already was acquainted with Astoria.  She’s Daphne’s sister and was in Slytherin two years behind us at Hogwarts.  She’s a charmer, that Astoria.  But also secretly nice and sweet.  Traits that are hard to keep when in Slytherin, but she managed just fine.  I quickly became good friends with Astoria. 

“Madeline was another matter altogether.  She had pitch black hair, but with a streak of blonde running through it.  She claimed it she was born with it.  I say claimed because I never believed that for some reason.  She rarely spoke and when she did, it was typically a witty or cutting statement that passed over many people’s heads.  She liked me because I usually got her jokes and jibes.  But her affinity for me quickly became disturbing.  It got to the point that she would follow me around at parties.  I had to carefully escape her in order to spend time with Astoria.  I knew by this point that I hoped Mother and Father picked Astoria. 

“During one such escape, Madeline found Astoria and I in the gardens.  We were just chatting.  Astoria has asked me if I had an interest in anyone.  I didn’t, not really, not romantically.  I said as much and added that it would not matter if I did since I was supposed to marry a woman of my parent’s choosing.  She stopped smiling and nodded.  She knew our fates would be the same.  Astoria had suddenly cheered up and began to tease me about Madeline.  I said something mean about her being a crazy stalker who wouldn’t leave me alone and didn’t know when to take a hint.  I also added how I could never love a woman like her. 

“Madeline had overhead everything.  She ripped through the bushes and rounded on both of us.  She screamed some obscenities in French, slapped both me and Astoria and left, muttering about getting revenge on both of us.  We sat there astonished, not knowing what to do.  

“I mentioned the incident to my parents.  My father by then had concluded his search into the two families.  As it turned out Madeline was a descendant of a rather evil witch and her family has a history of mental illness.  They had left France after Madeline finished at Beauxbatons, under suspicious circumstances.” 

Draco leaned over to his nightstand where he had left a glass of water and took a drink. 

“Needless to say, my parents decided on Astoria.  Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass were approached.  Surprisingly they agreed.  I believe Astoria might have had a hand in that.  Negotiations began and after a short time everything was settled.  Astoria, her parents, a few friends, my parents and I were gathered here in the manor for a small engagement dinner.  That’s when Madeline showed up. 

“She stormed in, her hair dishevelled.  Her eyes were gleaming green.  She gave a huge speech about how she would have loved me.  She could tell I didn’t love Astoria and that I never would.  And on and on she went.  My father tried to petrify her, but she was too quick for him.  Madeline turned his spell back on him.  He froze and fell back.  My mother rushed to him.”  Draco stared of into the distance as he described the events of that night.  “I didn’t know what to think.  I didn’t know what to do.  I wanted to deny what she said. 

“Madeline continued to ramble incoherently for a while, pacing.  Goyle tried rushing her, but she waved her hand and he landed in a heap against the wall.  Pansy went to him.  She was on the floor when she tried to fire a spell at the witch.  But again Madeline threw back the spell.  Pansy crumpled next to Greg.  She was bleeding.  I tried to stand up to go to my friends, but Madeline threw a spell at me and I was literally glued to my seat.  Blaise tried to use her distraction to disarm her, but she wasn’t using a wand so nothing happened.  She petrified him too.  Astoria and her parents were huddled in a corner by this point. 

“I was scared.  There was nothing I could do!” 

Draco turned desperate eyes at Harry.  He wanted to comfort the man, to take him in his arms and tell him things were alright now.  But he was stuck as a werewolf, so he placed his paws on Draco’s arm and licked his face.  Draco gave Harry a half-hearted smile. 

“I know it’s in the past, but it hurts me still that I could do nothing.  Madeline turned towards me again and began to chant.  She was enacting an enchantment curse.  That much I had caught from her ramblings.  Right before my eyes I watched the magic swirl around the room.  He enveloped my father, and my mother stepped back as he was turned into a coat rack.  She gasped in horror but then she too was wrapped in the magic and turned into a teapot.  Little by little all of the people in the room were turned into objects; Greg the candelabra, Pansy the music box, Blaise the footrest, Astoria the silver hand mirror, and her parents the rug and broom. 

“When that was done, Madeline smiled in satisfaction.  The magic gathered in her hand and then she sent it towards me.  It pierced my heart and shattered into millions of particles flying away to shroud the manor.  The manor was effectively placed under the curse as well.  Madeline only said one thing before she left. ‘Darling Draco, only true love will be able to break this curse.  Good luck finding true love with solitude as your only true companion.’ 

“She swept out of the room and I’ve been trapped ever since.” 

Draco felt silent, but he continued to pet Harry.  The petting had begun sometime in the last few minutes. 

“So now you know.  Now you know.” 

Harry couldn’t say anything.  So he gave Draco what comfort he could. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

A week later, when Harry transformed back into a human during the full moon, he was the one to tackle Draco.  The other man laughed.  “Down boy,” he jokingly said. 

Harry growled.  Draco laughed some more.  “Come on Harry, let’s go get you a cup of tea.” 

“I’d rather stay here.”  Harry snuggled his nose into Draco’s neck and breathed in. 

Draco gasped.  “We’ll have time for that later.  Mother and Father are probably waiting.” 

That did the trick.  Harry groaned and pulled away.  “Did you really have to mention your parents?”  Draco grinned and shrugged.  “Right, let’s go downstairs then.”  Harry turned and walked towards the door. 

Draco cleared his throat.  “I think you might want to put some clothes on first.” 

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and looked down at himself.  Yeah, he was definitely very naked and not a little aroused form tackling Draco.  “Yes, I think I you’re right.” 

He turned back towards Draco and clothes were unceremoniously tossed into his face. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Harry had his tea and his treacle tarts.  Draco was staring again and this time holding his unoccupied hand.  Harry didn’t mind.  He again thanked Mrs Malfoy and the house elves, this time less awkwardly.  Draco dragged him out of the room and Harry had to walk around the coat rack that was Lucius Malfoy before he was free to follow. 

“Come on, Harry.  There’s something I want to show you. I had forgotten all about it since you’ve been here.  But last night I dreamed of it.”  Draco led the way upstairs and towards his parents’ rooms. 

They stopped at the double doors.  “But I thought we couldn’t go inside without permission.” 

“I asked Mother while you were busy stuffing your face-“ 

“Hey!” 

“And she said yes.”

 “How do you know she said yes?”

 “I’m her son and she doesn’t deny me many things.”  Draco smiled innocently. 

“Of course, of course.” 

“Now come on, Potter, don’t drag your feet.”  Draco let go of Harry’s hand, turned the handles and pushed the doors open. 

The doors lead to a sitting room; it was neat and ornate, but a little dusty. 

“This is odd.  There’s never been dust here before,” Draco said, almost guessing Harry’s thoughts.  He stepped through the room and used his wand to throw a few cleaning charms around.  “What I want to show you is through here, in the bedroom.” 

Harry was reluctant to go into the Malfoy’s bedroom.  The idea of it made him uncomfortable.  “I think I’ll wait here.” 

Draco gave him a funny look but agreed, “Suit yourself.  I’ll get it and be out in a minute.”  He disappeared behind a door and returned a little while later with an object wrapped in a cloth. “Come on, let’s go back to my room and I’ll show you what this is.” 

Once back in Draco’s room, they both sat on the bed and Draco unwrapped what turned out to be a rather ornate and antique mirror.  “I found this mirror in the attic about a year into the curse.  I could feel the magic vibrating off of it.  Can you feel it?”  Harry could so he nodded.  “It took me a while to figure out what it does.  It was actually by accident.  I was polishing it one day and I said out loud that I wish I knew what Daphne was doing because I could just tell that Astoria and her parents missed their other daughter.  The mirror shimmered and she appeared on the reflective surface.  I watched transfixed for quite a while.  It had been more than a year since I had seen another living person.  I then found the Greengrasses and described the scene for them.  Daphne was in Paris (she had moved there after the war) and it looked like she was shopping for a wedding dress.” 

Draco looked down at the mirror.  “Over the years I’ve looked in it a lot.  If you hold it and wish to see someone it will show them to you.  I might have spied on you a bit before you were turned into a werewolf as well.  I tried to find you one day, but all I saw was a black basement.” 

Harry frowned.  “That was where I had been living; in the basement of Grimmauld Place.  Hermione and Ron weren’t sure that I wouldn’t attack someone.  I wasn’t sure that I wouldn’t attack anyone.”’ 

“Oh Harry, you never could attack anyone.  At least not without provocation.  I have always known that you would be worse than a beast if someone you care about was threatened.”  Draco took Harry’s hand and squeezed.  “Anyway, I didn’t bring this out to depress us, I brought it out so you can see your friends.  I’m sure you must miss them and I just wanted you to know if they were safe.  It has been a few months.” 

Harry smiled.  “Draco, that’s wonderful.  I would love to know how Hermione and Ron are doing.  And the other Weasleys as well.” 

“Sorry I didn’t think of this mirror earlier, but I had made myself stop using it after I spent almost a week staring into it last year.  I had placed it in my parent’s room and I promptly forgot about it when you appeared.”  Draco cleaned the mirror and handed it to Harry.  “Just say out loud who you wish to see and they should appear.” 

Harry took the mirror, “I wish to see Ron.”  The mirror’s surface shimmered and then there was Ron and he was hugging Hermione.  Harry took comfort in the fact they were together.  “It’s Ron.  It really is Ron.  He’s with Hermione and look they’re at the Burrow!”  Harry was excited.  What luck!  He might get to see all of the Weasleys on the first try.  He watched with happiness as Hermione patted her belly.  He’d forgotten that Hermione was pregnant.  “Look at Hermione, she’s huge.  She must be due soon.”  Draco looked.  Harry’s brows furrowed as he watched Ron hug his mother because she was crying.  Then he saw that Mr Weasley was lying in a bed and he looked deathly pale.  “Draco, there’s something wrong with Arthur Weasley.  I think he might be dying!  Draco, I have to go, I have to get to them.” 

“Of course, yes.  You’re free to go whenever you wish.  I won’t stop you from going to your family.” 

“I never thought you would.”  Harry gave the mirror back to Draco, jumped off the bed and began pacing.  “I have to pack.  Wait.  What am I saying?  I’ll be a werewolf again come morning.  That’s right.  I’ll be able to travel faster as a werewolf.  That’s settled, I’ll leave in the morning once I’m back to my werewolf form.”  He relaxed a little and turned back to Draco.  “Thank you Draco, for showing me the mirror.  If Arthur really is dying, I don’t know how I would have reacted if I hadn’t been there to see him one last time.” 

“I must have dreamed about it for this reason.”  Draco smiled sadly at Harry.  “I’m sure your friends and family will be happy to have you back.  They’ll want to keep you close if Arthur doesn’t make it.” 

“Oh Draco,” Harry rushed back toward him and gathered him in his arms.  “You have to know how I feel about you by now.  I won’t say away for long, I promise.  I’ll return to you.  We’ll find a way to break the curse. And if it can’t be broken then I’ll just stay with you, here in the manor.” 

Draco clung to him.  “I can’t ask that of you Harry.  I could not condemn you to the life I’ve lived.” 

“You’re not asking.  I’m offering.  Plus I’m sure Hermione will be able to figure something out.” 

“If you say so Harry, if you say so.”  Draco pulled away to look at Harry.  “Come on then, let’s get you a bath before you go.” 

“Only if you’ll join me.” 

“Of course.” 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

A few hours later, after a very satisfying bath and some worrying and cuddling in bed, Harry was standing in the middle of the parlour ready to transform back into a werewolf.  Draco was holding both his hands and staring at him as if memorising his features.  “Draco I promise, I’ll be back.  Maybe Arthur will recover quickly.” 

“I just have this feeling like I’m never going to see you again.  And it’s fine if you don’t come back.  I would understand.” 

“No, you don’t understand.  I have to come back because I care about you.” 

Draco smiled, “I care about you too, Harry.” 

“It’s not just that I care about you,” Harry took a deep breath; “I love you.” 

Draco inhaled quickly, his eyes widened and then he waited as if something were about to strike. 

“What is it?  What’s the matter?” 

“Nothing, I just thought…Never mind.”  Draco looked down at their joined hands.  “Harry, I love you too.” 

Harry felt his heart swell.  He dropped Draco’s hands and hugged the other man fiercely.  “Who would have believed it?  And of course I would find love in this manner, as a werewolf.”  Draco laughed.  He pulled away slightly, wanting desperately to kiss the other man, but that’s when his transformation began.  He had enough time to whisper, “One month, I’ll be back in one month.”  Draco nodded with tears in his eyes.

When the transformation was complete, Draco led Harry outside; he picked a rose and gave it to Harry.  “You’ll remember me won’t you?”  Harry took the rose in his mouth and nodded.  It very nearly killed him to turn away from Draco, but once he did, he didn’t allow himself to look back.  He ran through the gates, which now stood wide open and just kept on running. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

It took Harry a little less than a week to reach the Burrow.  It might have taken less, but he had to be careful during the day so as not to be spotted.  He kept the rose in his mouth whenever possible, only putting it down occasionally to hunt, but always coming back to it. 

When he reached the Burrow, George was outside swigging from a flask.  He startled when Harry approached him, but he quickly realised who the werewolf was. 

“Harry, mate!  We’ve been so worried.”  He dropped down to his knees and hugged Harry.  “And Harry, there’s something you must know.  It’s dad.  He’s sick and we’re afraid he’s not going to make it.”  George hugged Harry tighter and he could feel tears falling against his shoulder.  He let George use his shoulder to cry on for a bit.  George seemed better composed afterwards.  “Thanks Harry.  It seems I needed a good cry.  I just can’t imagine a world without my dad.  Not so soon, not so soon after, you know, everything and Fred.”  Harry understood.  “Enough of this.  Let’s get you inside before I start bawling again.  Mum will be so happy to see you.  She’ll probably get your other shoulder wet.” 

Molly was happy to see Harry.  As was everyone else.  And George’s predictions did come true.  By the end of the hour, Harry had two wet shoulders. 

“Harry, dear, you must be hungry.”  That’s Molly for you, always wanting to feed you.  “Come on into the kitchen.  I’m sure I can rustle something up for you.  Then we’ll go and see,” she held back her tears, “we’ll go and see Arthur.  I’m sure he’ll cheer up a bit when he sees you.” 

Harry followed Molly into the kitchen, the other stayed in the family room.  “Ron and Hermione should be back soon, too.  They just went off to London for a check-up.  Hermione’s very far along now.  We’re expecting the babe in a little over a month.”  She served him a big bowl of minced beef and vegetables.  Harry reluctantly dropped the rose he still held in his mouth. 

Molly saw it and picked it up.  “A Rose? Oh Harry how lovely.  You won’t mind if I place this in Arthur’s room.”  She bustled around the kitchen finding a vase and filling it with water.  She placed the single red rose in the vase.  Harry looked at it and thought of Draco.  “This is such a pretty rose.  Arthur loves roses.  He says they remind him of his mum.”  Harry looked at the rose closely.  It really was beautiful and even though he’d carried it in his mouth for almost a week, it still looked as perfect as when Draco had handed it to him.  “Go on dear, eat up.  We’ll take this to Arthur’s room together.” 

After he finished his meal, he followed Molly up two flights of stairs to the room she shared with her husband.  Arthur was asleep.  He looked so pale even against white sheets.  Harry walked closer and sniffed him; he smelled horrible.  Harry wanted to shrink away; instead he jumped up on the bed and curled up next to the man.  He’d keep the man that had treated him like a son company until the very end if he had to.  Molly smiled at him and patted his head.  She set the vase with the rose on the bedside table.  “He’ll be sure to see you and it when he awakes. I’ll be downstairs preparing dinner.  Come get me if he wakes?” 

Harry nodded.  He fell asleep next to a dying Arthur Weasley. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Hermione cried when she saw Harry.  She hugged him as fiercely as she could with her protruding belly.  “You complete idiot.  Why’d you run off like that?  Did you not think about how we would worry?  You selfish arse.”  She continued crying.  “Oh I could wring your neck, but I’m too glad to have you back, especially now.” 

Once Hermione let him go, Ron gave him hug as well.  “It’s good to have you back, mate.  We were worried and we missed you.  We realised we shouldn’t have had you shut up for so long, but we didn’t know what else to do.”  Harry patted him with his paw.  

Arthur continued to sleep.  He slept right through the night.  Molly didn’t sleep at all.  She and Harry stayed by his side.  “He hasn’t slept this much before, Harry.  I’m worried that this is it; that he won’t wake up at all.”  Molly began to sob silently.  She lay down next to Arthur and Harry on the bed and cried herself to sleep.  Harry watched over them both. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Harry must have dozed off because he was awoken by a hand brushing through his fur.  He knew that it was not Molly’s hand.  “Oh you’re awake.”  It was Arthur!  He’d finally woke up. 

Harry gave a light bark and tackled Arthur, though he was very mindful of not putting all his weight on the sick man.  He licked his face a few times.  Arthur laughed until he began coughing.  “Enough, Harry, enough.”  He was still smiling when Harry pulled away.  “I’m happy to see you too, but you’ll wake Molly.” 

Speaking her name was actually what woke his wife up.  “Arthur?”  She looked blearily at her smiling husband.  “Arthur!  Oh Arthur, you’re not dead!”  Now it was her turn to throw herself at the redheaded man. 

“No, Molly, luv, I’m not dead.”  He hugged back.  “And I don’t plan to be any time soon.” 

Harry got off the bed and left the two of them alone.  He went downstairs and took a nap on the couch.  He dreamed of running through the woods trying to reach something or someone, but he woke up before he could reach whatever it was he was after. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

The mediwitch that visited later that afternoon said Arthur would recover.  It would be a slow recovery.  The illness had sapped a lot of his magical energy.  He need to remain in bed for at least another two weeks before he had enough strength to take a few steps.  By the middle of the second week of Harry’s visit, Arthur was able to walk around the room without tiring himself out. 

By the third week of his stay at the Burrow, Arthur was well on his way to a full recovery.  Harry was ready to leave.  He wanted to be with Draco before the full moon.  Hermione and Ron were moving into the Burrow for couple months.  Hermione was about ready to pop. She hardly moved around at all.  Just back and forth to the bathroom.  However, she watched and she knew.  She knew that Harry was antsy to be somewhere. 

Harry knew that if he pushed himself he could make it back to the manor in three days.  He had assured himself that Arthur would live; if the mediwitch was correct he might outlive them all now that he had battled though his illness.  

It was four days before the full moon and he was going to leave that night so that he could travel through it.  He was spending the day lazing about on the couch with Hermione.  She was reading though an old grimoire as she petted Harry.  Occasionally she would tell him about some obscure spell and how she thought it could be adapted to suit some purpose or other.  He got the feeling that she was still looking for a way to break his own curse.  He wished he could talk so he could ask her to help break Draco’s curse as well.

 

Suddenly Hermione gasped and grabbed a handful of Harry’s fur.  She then moaned and dropped the book she had been reading to clutch at her belly.  “Harry, I think the baby’s coming.  Go and get someone.”  Harry leaped off the couch and ran upstairs.  Molly was sitting on the bed with Arthur, she was trying to get him to take his potions.  Harry clamped his teeth around her skirt and began to pull.

 

“Harry, dear, what are you doing?”  He continued to pull.  “Now stop that, you’ll tear it.”  He didn’t stop, in fact he pulled harder and began to growl.

 

“I think he wants you to go with him, Molly.”  Arthur said.  Molly saw her opportunity and tipped the potion she was holding into Arthur’s mouth.  He spluttered, but swallowed.

 

“Right, now that’s taken care of…”  She stood up.  “Lead the way.”

 

Harry leaped down the stair, Molly quick on his heels.  They found Hermione standing up, supporting herself against a wall.  “Molly, thank Merlin.  I’m pretty sure the baby wants to come out now.” 

Molly rushed toward Hermione.  “Oh my, alright.  Let’s get you to St. Mungo’s, but first,” she took out her wand and sent off her Patronus to inform Arthur and Ron that Hermione was going into labour.  She then manoeuvred Hermione toward the fireplace, threw in a handful of floo powder and shouted “St Mungo’s”.  The two women were gone with a swirl of green fire.  Harry was left alone in the sitting room, worried about Hermione.   

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Harry spent the next few days with Arthur.  They kept each other company as they waited for updates here and there.  A day after Hermione was whooshed off to St. Mungo’s Ron ran into his father’s room, “I’m a father.  Bloody hell, I’m a father.”  He had sat down with a worried look on his face on the foot of the bed.  

“So is it a boy or a girl?” Arthur has asked. 

“Oh dad, it’s a beautiful baby girl.  She has a full head of hair.  She’ll have Hermione’s hair, but its red, red, like, like, my hair,” he pointed out lamely.  “But oh she's the most beautiful little baby.  And tiny.  She’s so tiny.  Oh dad, what if I break her next time I hold her?”  Ron looked pleadingly at his father. 

Harry realised he must be drunk.  Arthur likely figured out the same thing.  “Did George take you drinking?” 

“NO!” Ron exclaimed too loudly.  “We just had a spot of whiskey downstairs.” 

“Right.  Trust George to know what to do at times like this,” Arthur said sarcastically.  “Listen to me, Ron, I’m your father and I know these things.  You will make a great father.  You’ve been a great son.  You’ve made your mother and me very proud.  Hermione is a great woman and together you and she will be a force to be reckoned with as parents.” 

Ron was looking at his dad with tears in his eyes.  “Dad, I’m glad you didn’t die.” 

Arthur gave a chuckle. “I’m glad too son.  Now come over here and give your father a hug.  I am now a grandfather, again.”  Ron did just that.  And Harry had to admit that if he had been in his human form, he would have been crying right along with Ron.  Arthur was right; Hermione and Ron would make fantastic parents. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Hermione and the baby were able to leave St. Mungo’s after a couple of days.  Ron, the baby and her would be staying at the Burrow for a month or two.  Ron’s description of the baby was correct.  She had Ron’s colouring; undoubtedly she would have freckles, and a few were already visible.  While she had the red Weasley hair, it did look like it would turn out just as bushy as Hermione’s.  They named her Rose; though Ron was already referring to her as his Rosie. 

Harry barely felt the days go by.  He was so enthralled by the newest addition to the Weasley family.  Hermione and Ron tentatively mentioned that they wanted him as godfather.  He didn’t see how that would be possible with him as a werewolf.  He did know one thing; he would protect this little girl, tooth and nail, literally. 

Bill, Fleur and their children came to visit.  George brought his wife (Angelina) and his children for dinner every Friday.  Even Charlie showed up one weekend to get a gander at his new niece.  He declared her a “looker”.  Ginny came in from Spain, were she was training with her Quidditch team, to spend a week with her new niece. 

Harry sat around in the Weasleys' living room every night wondering at how he could be so lucky.  Now that he wasn’t locked up in the basement of Grimmauld Place he constantly felt the love from his adoptive family, even if he was a scary looking beast. 

Molly had moved the rose that Harry had brought from the Malfoy Manor into the living room.  It sat above the mantle and never wilted.  It was still as beautiful and fresh as the day it had been picked.  Harry stared at it every now and then thinking about Draco.  He knew he would have to leave his family soon because he missed Draco so much.  But not just yet, he wanted to make sure Rosie was safe. 

It was three weeks after the fact that Harry realised he hadn’t transformed back into a human during the full moon.  He therefore concluded that the magic around the manor is what had caused him to change back.  That’s when Harry decided it was definitely time to go.  He started to feel antsy again.  Hermione, of course, was the first to notice.  She looked at him worriedly as he paced back and forth in front of the mantle, glancing continuously at the rose. 

For three days he resolved to leave during the night, but somehow Hermione always ended up cornering him and he’d end up sleeping in Rosie’s room watching over her as she slept. 

It was three days before the full moon and Harry desperately wanted to be back with Draco so he could transform back into a human and have his night with the man he loved, even if it was only once a month.  Hermione knew that he wanted to leave and she told Molly.  Between the two of them they kept him guiltily in the house for another two days. 

It was when he noticed that petals had started to fall of the rose over the mantle, that he knew he had to leave now or lose Draco.  Something was wrong.  He could feel it.  That rose was somehow tied to Draco and the curse he was under. 

He patiently waited to Ron to leave the front door open, as he frequently did.  And then he bolted.  He could hear Hermione, Molly, Ron and Arthur shouting after him, but Harry paid them no mind.  He could only concentrate on one thing; getting to Draco as fast as he could. 

He ran for a whole day straight, only stopping once to drink water at a stream. He was pretty sure a few Muggles saw him, but only as a blur.  He was getting closer to the manor.  Now that he paid attention he could feel the magic of the curse calling to him.  That was likely what had drawn him to Draco the first time. 

The sun was setting and he was getting closer and closer.  He felt himself pass through the magical barrier of the curse and he stopped to catch his breath.  He was a good mile still away from the manor.  He wanted to keep going, but he started to feel weak.  Harry felt the first tingles start in his stomach that meant he was about to transform.  No, in his human form, it would take him longer to get to Draco.  

He was on the ground still reeling from the transformation; it had hurt almost as much as the first time, maybe because he hadn’t transformed in a month.  Harry gave himself a minute then pushed himself up.  He began running again.  It was not as fast, and he kept stumbling because he would step on a rock or a sharp branch.  He also tripped and fell more times than he would have liked. 

After running through the woods for more than an hour, he finally caught sight of the manor.  As he approached it he noticed something that made him uneasy.  The roses that had covered the walls when he’d first seen them and when he’d left, were now dead.  All that was left were thorn bushes.  Harry hurried towards the gate.  It too was covered in thorns. In fact, it was practically overgrown with it and Harry had to break some of them away, leaving his hands cut and bloody.  He had to get to Draco; he could feel that something wasn’t right.

Finally, he broke away enough branches to open the gate enough to get through.  What he saw when he stepped through caused his stomach to fall.  The house looked ancient; it was covered in dead ivy, a great number of the windows were either boarded up with rotting wood or broken, and of course, the roses were all dead and thorn bushes were everywhere. 

Harry ran up to the front door.  It was closed, he tried to open it, but it was locked.  He began pounding on it.  “Draco!  Draco!”  He pounded and pounded, but nothing happened.  He slumped to the ground exhausted.  He looked around frantically trying to think of a way in.  That’s when it happened; the coat rack crashed through one of the windows and came flying out of it and landed a few feet away from Harry.  He made his way towards it.  It was splintered and looked as if it was starting to rot.  “Oh no, Mr Malfoy.  Where’s Draco?”  Of course it didn’t answer. 

Harry looked at the window through which it had just gone crashing.  There was no one there, but it was a way in.  Harry carefully removed most of the broken glass from the window frame; he was already cut and bleeding, no need to add more wounds.  He climbed through and once he was standing in a familiar parlour he began to shiver.  The house was frigid.  His naked skin began to pimple from the cold and his breath was visible as he stood there hugging himself.  Harry looked around the room; it was in the same state as the rest of the house; hangings were torn, cobwebs hung from the ceiling, dust covered every surface, the armchair that Draco liked to sit in was frayed and had a hole through the back. 

It was not possible for this amount of ageing to happen to the house in the two months he had been away.  The curse must be at play here.  If the house looked like this, then Draco might be… 

No, he wouldn’t even think it.  Draco had to be alive! 

Harry stumbled out of the room, he searched every room downstairs where Draco might be; nothing.  He raced upstairs to continue his search.  As he searched he saw some of Draco’s beloved objects (his friends and family) looking broken and forlorn; the candelabra was tarnished and missing its usual candles. The music box was missing the dancing ballerina, the hand mirror was cracked, the rug was fraying and torn, the footrest had a missing leg and its stuffing was falling out of a tear, the broom was missing almost all of its bristles.  He didn’t see the teapot at all. 

Draco wasn’t in his room.  He was neither in the gallery nor in any of the guest rooms.  Harry was left with only one place else to search; the Malfoy’s master rooms.  He threw open the double doors into the sitting room.  Nothing, it was empty.  He saw that the door to the bedroom was partly open.  He slowly made his way towards it, stepping over a fallen chair.  When he reached the door, he pushed it open the rest of the way, and a cold wind rushed through the room and chilled Harry further.  The balcony doors were open and the teapot was guarding it, though it had a crack and its lid was missing. 

Harry knew that Draco was through those doors.  He crossed the room towards the balcony in three quick strides.  He picked up the teapot and set it on the bed.  Then he was out on the open balcony staring at an unmoving Draco.  

The blond man was pallid, grey almost.  Harry’s heart stopped and a sob tore through him.  He crouched down next to the man he loved and took him in his arms.  He could not be dead. 

“Draco, wake up.” Harry cradled his head in his lap and cupped his cheek.  “Draco, its Harry.  I’ve come back to you.  I’m sorry I’m late.  I didn’t mean to be.”  He leaned his head down and whispered into Draco’s ear, “Please, I’m here now.  Please wake up.  Please.  Draco, I love you, you can’t be dead.” 

Harry felt something light rustle his hair.  He froze and listened. Draco was still breathing, his heart was still beating.  It wasn’t too late.  He smiled and placed a kiss on Draco’s lips in relief.  The effect was instantaneous. They were engulfed in a blinding light and Harry drew away.  Draco’s eyes sprang open and he saw Harry. 

“Harry you came back!”  He reached for Harry and hugged him. 

“I promised that I would.”  Draco pulled back, smiled and kissed Harry.  They didn’t notice that the white light that had engulfed them was turned into a million shafts of light.  They worked their way into every nook, crevice and object of Malfoy Manor.  The paintings began to move again.  The cobwebs and dust disappeared.  The furniture and other trappings were restored to its former glory.  The objects that were formerly people suddenly found themselves people again.  

Naricssa Malfoy was laying on her bed.  She knew that Harry Potter was outside her balcony with her son.  She also knew that Harry was naked.  She picked up a blanket, walked outside, and cleared her throat. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ 

Both curse were lifted that day and they lived happily ever after, except for a few minor incidents here and there.  Lucius Malfoy was none too happy when he found out that Harry Potter had indeed been shagging Draco before Narcissa had arranged the wedding of the decade (he clearly remembered a certain morning when he had scared werewolf Harry out of Draco’s bed; no wonder the beast had been so jumpy). Ron threw a particular nasty hissy fit when he found out that the reason that Harry had run off like a werewolf possessed had been “Draco Bloody Malfoy.” 

Draco still occasionally talked to inanimate objects, even though he knew they were not his parents or friends.  He claimed that one could never be too sure.  And if Harry liked his steaks this side of rare, no one said anything about it because they were all glad he was no longer a flee-ridden werewolf.  Though Harry claims he never had fleas. 

~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~Finite~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~ ✴ ~

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